


Santa Got A Sunburn

by Tagsit



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Could Be Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:12:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9254624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tagsit/pseuds/Tagsit
Summary: Brian takes Justin to St. Thomas but everything seems to be going wrong . . .Written for kellankyle for the LJ 2016 QAF Gift Exchange!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kellankyle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellankyle/gifts).



> Banner by the wonderous samcdee!

Santa Got a Sunburn

By Tagsit

  
  


_ “Santa got a sunburn, Santa got a sunburn, that’s why he’s all red . . .” _

 

“Fuck it, Justin! If you sing one more chorus of that moronic song, I swear that I will NEVER fuck you again!” Brian snarled at the man who was patiently rubbing aloe lotion all over his partner’s stinging red back.

 

Justin simply giggled and continued humming the tune to the song he’d heard that afternoon in the airport while he kept applying the cream. As his hands drifted lower, Brian winced even more. Even the light touch of Justin’s gentle hands on his very sore lower back and buttocks was painful. He groaned and tried to quell the grumpy rejoinder that wanted to erupt. It wasn’t Justin’s fault that their vacation seemed ruined before they’d even been in the U.S. Virgin Islands a full day. 

 

Brian had thought to surprise his overly busy partner with ten days away from the snow and gloom of a Pittsburgh winter. The trip was also designed to serve as an excuse for him to escape the cloying attentions of their well-meaning but too nosy family. Brian had never much cared for the holiday season - it always brought back too many bad memories - and his aversion hadn’t changed with time. So, when he’d received yet another email from New York complaining about how overworked and stressed out Justin was, Brian had just said ‘Fuck it All!’ to the entire holiday hoopla and decided to take them both away from all of it. No family. No work. No fake Christmas Cheer. Just uninterrupted days of sun and fun on a beach somewhere.

 

So, three days before the hated holiday, Brian had shown up at Justin’s New York apartment and kidnapped his complaining partner. He’d had the whole thing planned - even had a bag of clothing packed for Justin so he could just sweep the boy off his feet and away to the airport. He’d booked them into a swanky resort on a remote part of the islands where they could hide out until after New Year’s. It sounded ideal. Right?

 

Unfortunately, nothing had gone as smoothly as Brian had planned. 

 

To start with, Justin had NOT been thrilled with the idea of spending Christmas thousands of miles away from his family and had vehemently resisted the kidnapping. The silly little twat’s traditional heart had seemed set on the whole ‘White Christmas’ surrounded by friends and family and a fucking pine tree. He hadn’t been back to Pittsburgh since the summer before and had apparently been looking forward to seeing everyone. He had been especially upset at not getting to spend time with Gus over the holidays. It had taken Brian more than an hour to convince the younger man that this impromptu trip was a good idea - time that Brian had previously allotted to fucking before the long flight - and, by the time he’d finally talked Justin into the plan, they’d had to rush out to make their flight.

 

Then there had been the horrors of JFK Airport three days before Christmas! Shit! It had seemed like every single person in New York City was trying to fly out of the city on exactly the same day. The lines at the security gates had stretched so far that they’d had to string up those maze-like barriers halfway down the hallway to the airline check-in counters. It had been loud and crowded, with too many fucking kids everywhere. Everyone had been short tempered and in a hurry and worried about missing their flights because of the ridiculous lines. In other words, in Brian Kinney’s opinion, it had been hell on earth. The only thing that had made it at all bearable had been the anticipation of getting to their destination and spending a week on a beach with nothing more pressing on their agenda than deciding where he’d fuck Justin’s ass next. 

 

When they’d finally got past the laconic TSA guy that had scanned their IDs and Boarding Passes, Brian had thought it would all be downhill from there. He’d followed the other sheep-like travellers and had loaded all his stuff in the big grey bins so that they could go through the x-ray machines, taking off his coat, belt and shoes and emptying his pockets as directed. Unfortunately, he’d missed some coins that he’d put in the pocket of his jeans after hitting Starbucks earlier in the day, so he’d immediately set off the alarms on the scanners. He must have looked like a potential terrorist too, because the big burly TSA guard hadn’t just let him rid himself of of the metal and go back through - he’d pulled Brian to the side, along with all his bags, and done a complete body scan and a thorough pat down, while a second guard had rifled through the luggage. 

 

The brute had seemed almost disappointed when he hadn’t found any interesting contraband that might have given him an excuse for a full body-cavity search. But that had been good, because Brian had only just barely been holding back his temper by that point. Justin had nervously been waiting off to the side, tapping his foot and repeatedly looking at the time on his phone. Finally, the guy had let Brian start to get redressed while his partner had finished going through Brian’s suitcase. Unfortunately, the woman checking his bag had come across the brand new, 16 oz. bottle of Brian’s favorite ‘Nooky’ lube stowed in the bottom of his carry-on. 

  
  


“Sorry, Sir. I’m going to have to confiscate this,” the butch-looking blond had said as she’d held the bottle aloft for inspection. “You’re limited to travel-sized containers of 3.4 oz or less for all liquids.”

 

“Lube isn’t a liquid - it’s a necessity,” Brian had tried to argue. “Besides, I can probably go through 3.4 oz. of the stuff before we even make it out of the terminal. How do you expect me to last a full ten days with less than a pint of lube?” The two TSA guards had just scowled at him as the one had tossed the entire bottle in a nearby trashcan. “Shit! I can’t get that brand just anywhere. How the fuck do you expect me to go on vacation without my favorite lube . . .”

 

“Come on, Brian,” Justin had stepped up and had started zipping up the suitcase. “We’re going to miss our flight. I’m sure we can buy more lube when we get to the resort. Let’s go.”

 

So Brian had swallowed his vexation, grabbed his bags and had followed an anxious Justin through the throngs of holiday travellers to their gate without further complaint. They had made it just in time for the last boarding call. However, Brian’s anger had only been fully placated by the fact that they’d been flying first class, which meant he could get a glass of Beam as soon as they were seated. That, and the fact that Justin had then been curled up at his side in the next seat, had finally helped him relax. He’d recognized that he WAS just being silly. Of course they’d be able to get more lube when they landed in Charlotte Amalie West - the main city on St. Thomas Island. But Brian had still been a little miffed that they wouldn’t be experiencing the joys of the Mile High Club on their flight, since they’d been rendered lube-less for the time being. 

 

It had probably been for the best though. Justin had been so exhausted that he’d slept the entire flight, not even waking up to eat the lunch that the airline had served. Brian had needed to shake him awake when the plane had landed just to get him on his feet. Poor kid had been working himself into exhaustion. Brian had been even more glad he’d thought of this vacation when he’d seen how worn out his partner had been. The artist had needed the break even more than the busy Ad Exec. 

 

When they’d finally made it out of the airport, Brian had hailed a taxi and had negotiated the fee for the trip out to the resort, which was located on the far western tip of the island. It was a fairly remote spot, far from the tourist crowd. He’d hoped it would be nice and peaceful there, although it had been a little aggravating to have to spend more than a hour in a smelly, hot taxi, bumping over the poorly-paved roads of the little island. 

  
  


Finally, five hours after they’d left New York, they had been planted on lounge chairs on a beautiful St. Thomas beach enjoying the languid feel of the humid sunshine. Now THIS was what it was all about. Fuck Pittsburgh and the stress of Christmas with the Family. Fuck New York and its cold, windy streets. This was the way that a holiday SHOULD be spent! Brian had felt himself thoroughly relaxing as all the stress of the past few months had melted away in the tropical heat. 

 

So, while Sunshine had been dozing under the protection of a large umbrella, Brian had fallen asleep in the full blaze of the Caribbean sun wearing only an itty bitty black thong. They had  both been far too tired to stay awake even to admire the beauty of Botany Bay. Brian had vaguely wondered a few times if he should wake up and re-apply some sunscreen, but he had been too comfortable to make the effort. It wasn’t until the nearby beach volleyball game got out of hand and the ball sailed over to rebound off the back of his head, that Brian regained full consciousness. Which had been when he’d discovered that his ass was burned to the point that just a breeze wafting along the skin hurt.

 

That explained why he now found himself lying on the bed of their sumptuous hotel suite, growling at his too-cheerful twink while Justin tried his best to minister to Brian’s painful back. This was NOT how he’d planned to spend his first evening in St. Thomas. Brian’s plan had called for having fucked Justin at least five times by this point in the day. However, since he couldn’t move more than a fucking millimeter without pain, and he didn’t have any lube yet either, the possibility of fucking his boy any time in the near future didn’t seem likely. Fuck holidays!

 

When Justin had used up the small tube of complimentary lotion that he’d found in the hotel suite without bringing Brian any noticeable relief, he realized he needed more supplies. He kissed Brian on the one spot on the back of his neck that seemed to be least burnt and told him to hold on until he could get back. Brian just grumbled but didn’t move. Justin hurried out of the room, headed for the lobby and the small convenience store there, hoping to find something to help save both Brian and this holiday.

Once in the hotel store, Justin was at a bit of a loss. He’d quickly picked up another, larger, tube of aloe lotion. He’d also managed to find a tub of something called, ‘Boy Butter’ which looked like the local equivalent of lube. Thank fuck that the Virgin Islands - and this resort in particular - were extremely ‘gay friendly’. He just hoped that Brian would be ready to butter him up before the trip was over. So, what else could he find that might help?

  
  


Justin stared at the fairly large selection of teas in the grocery aisle. He had finally broken down and called his mother, asking her advice on how to handle the situation, given that Brian was beyond miserable and trying to put a brave face on it for his benefit. She was the one who’d recommended an old folk remedy - applying tea bags to the burned areas of skin. Of course he didn’t tell his mother that Brian was seriously burnt all the way from his hairline on the back of his neck down to the soles of his feet, which had also been exposed to the dastardly sun.    
At the moment, Brian couldn’t move more than a centimeter without experiencing physical pain. He wasn’t sure that a few tea bags would help. But, since he didn’t have any other ideas, he figured it was worth a try. 

 

The problem - which teabags to get? There were so many different kinds: green tea, raspberry, decaf, organic, local . . . Who the fuck needed that many teas? Did it really matter which one he got? And why the fuck hadn’t his mother been more specific?

 

Holding up the small hand-held shopping basket, Justin used his other arm to sweep the contents of the shelf into his basket, figuring at least one of them might work, and then headed towards the aisle with first aid stuff, looking for the cooling spray his mom had suggested. Finding it easily, he heaped as many cans as he could carry into his free arm and headed for the checkout counter.

 

The most ridiculous part of the equation was, in Brian’s haste to have privacy and solitude, he had managed to book them into the most remote resort on the island. If Brian hadn’t been so intent on getting them some solitude, Justin could have just gone to a real pharmacy. But no. He had to make due with the little he could find in this tiny convenience store. Hence the tea bags. He just hoped it all worked. 

 

At the checkout counter, the lovely, dark-skinned clerk noticed Justin’s purchases and correctly assumed he was dealing with a severe case of sunburn. Having seen her fair share of toasted tourists, she gave Justin some advice of her own as she handed him his bags. When she finished her instructions, Justin flashed her his trademark smile, feeling better than he had in the prior twenty-four hours, practically skipping back to his lover.

 

“What the fuck took you so long?” Brian grouched from his prone position on the floor in front of an oscillating fan he had found in a closet.

 

“This isn’t Pittsburgh or New York, Brian. You can’t just run down to the corner store and get everything you ever needed, you know,” Justin snarked back, reminding Brian once again that this trip hadn’t been his idea. 

 

Leaving Brian naked on the floor, he went to the bathroom and turned on the water in the tub to the hottest setting. Brian was still bitching from the front room, but Justin was thankful that he couldn’t make out the words over the rushing water. Once the tub was about a third full, he turned off the taps and, randomly selecting a box of teabags, he began opening the individual packets and dropping the teabags into the water. When two full boxes were floating like miniature life preservers in the water, he took two of the large, fluffy towels and dropped them into the tub, too, until they were soaked. After wringing them out, he carried them to the kitchen and stuffed them in the freezer for later use, as the clerk had suggested.

 

Brian tried to get his attention again as Justin passed by the living room, but the younger man ignored him, too busy to cater to the whining man. Carrying the empty ice bucket back to the bathroom, he gave the teabags another five minutes to steep and then fished them out, piling them into the container. He filled the rest of the tub with cold water then turned the taps off for the last time. Still ignoring Brian’s complaints, he stuck the bucket in the refrigerator and finally went back to the brunet’s side. 

 

When Brian opened his mouth to let out his pent-up frustration, Justin simply covered his mouth with his own hand and whispered. “I know you’re in pain, Brian, and I WILL help you, but only if you stop bellyaching. I warned you not to fall asleep in the sun, but you didn’t listen to me. Karma is a bitch and now you have to deal with the consequences. But I swear to you, if you complain one more time, I will fly home and leave you to suffer your punishment alone.”

 

Brian looked for a second like he might complain just on principle, but then thought better of it. His eyes softened, then twinkled a little as he licked Justin’s palm. Not an apology, per se, but a small act of conciliation anyway.

 

Brian let Justin help him up from the floor and gingerly walked to the bathroom, keeping any complaints about his burnt feet behind his teeth. Seeing the coffee-colored water in the tub had him flinching in distaste, but Justin cut him off before he could comment.

 

“You’ve had your tongue in my ass and a hundred different guys’ jizz all over you, so I hardly think a tea bath is something to make you turn up your nose.”

 

Brian rolled his lips in, narrowing his eyes in Justin’s direction. The boy was right, of course. He was always right. He knew it was useless to argue. And when Brian slid into the cool water, he closed his eyes in relief. Thank the gay gods that Justin WAS always right! 

 

Thirty minutes later the worst of the sting was gone and Brian could finally relax his tense muscles. It still hurt, but the throbbing and needle-sharp, jabbing pain was gone for now. In fact, it was gone enough that his mind turned to other things. More enjoyable things. Things that had nothing to do with dark brown water or angry red skin. He let the smile spread on his face. He’d been with Justin for almost an entire day and they hadn’t fucked yet. That was insane! No fucking wonder he was cranky. Just the thought had the blood rushing to his cock and a smirk playing on his lips as Justin came back into the bathroom to help him from the tub. 

 

Brian allowed Justin to continue with his mothering for a little longer, all the while taking every opportunity to bump, rub, fondle and otherwise molest his lover as they made their way to the bedroom. Justin ignored it all, intent on his caregiving as he had Brian lay once again on his stomach before dousing him generously with the cooling spray. 

 

Brian pretended to flinch when the spray came near his ass crack and, predictably, Justin blew on it, thinking that it hurt. It didn’t. But Brian received the intended result. He let out an exaggerated moan, telling Justin just how good it felt, all the while hoping the boy would repeat the action again. Predictably, Justin did - the boy was just too easy, but that’s the way Brian liked him. Brian squirmed a little, spread his knees a little more, and hinted with a tilt of his tush that he wouldn’t mind even more attention back there.

 

Justin smiled to himself. He hadn’t been immune to Brian’s fondling, nor was he unaware of the boner his lover sported. He would like nothing more than to take advantage of it. However, there was no way Brian was up for topping, no matter how much better he felt, nor was he going to give over and let Justin top just because. During the six plus years they’d been together, Brian had topped with the flu, food poisoning, cancer, and a broken collarbone. No way was he going to give in because of a little sunburn. But Justin had his number. All he had to do was let Brian come to the decision himself by making sure all other options were exhausted. Not a problem.

 

Justin’s smile got bigger as Brian wagged his ass again with a motion that indicated Justin needed to get the fuck on with things. Justin stripped and carefully spread Brian’s cheeks, placing his mouth on the only part of Brian’s backside that wasn’t beet red, and began giving his lover the best rimming he was capable of. Justin wanted this to have just the right result, so he paid expert attention to Brian’s responses and redoubled his efforts to bring Brian to the brink but not get him off. 

 

When Brian was grinding into the mattress and groaning in frustration, Justin finally let him flip over, only to see the wince of pain as Brian’s burned back hit the sheets. Justin immediately offered to switch places and Brian hurried to do so, his cock leaking and his balls throbbing insistently. Once they’d flipped positions with Brian hovering over the smaller framed man, he reached down and pulled Justin’s hips up, wrapping the boy’s legs around his waist, only to wince again when he realized that this position wasn’t going to work either. 

 

Justin simply lay there, silently stroking himself, as he let Brian figure it out on his own. Watching the process play out on Brian’s face was comical, and Justin had all he could do not to laugh out loud as Brian watched him stroke his dick and lick his lips, then look down at his own straining erection. That was the moment that Brian finally realized that the only way this was going to happen was for him to ride Justin. That position would put the least amount of contact on his burned skin. Brian flirted briefly with suggesting a sixty-nine but was so horny by this time that he knew it wouldn’t be enough. 

 

Justin saw the moment the decision was made and reached for the lube. Brian grabbed it away, kissed Justin quickly on the lips, and then began preparing himself as he mumbled, “ _ Boy Butter, _ Sunshine? That’s all they had? Don’t you think I’m a bit old for BOY Butter? Whatever . . .”

 

“You’ll always be MY bottom boy, Brian.” Justin snarked and smiled, still stroking his dick and reaching for Brian’s. 

 

Brian smacked his hand away with a grin. “Fuck you, Twat,” he retorted, then he straddled Justin’s hips and impaled himself on Justin’s cock in such a way that there was no misunderstanding who was doing the driving regardless of what position he was in. 

 

Justin smiled, big and toothy, once Brian was fully seated and had reached up to trap Justin’s smaller hands in one of his over Justin’s head. Brian rose slightly and slammed back down, making both of them moan at the shocking contact. Justin arched his back, enjoying the unadulterated pleasure. Sure, Justin loved to fuck Brian. Any chance he could get. And Brian loved it too. But, unbeknownst to each other, their absolute favorite was when Brian ‘topped from the bottom’.

 

Generally speaking, they both preferred to top. However, Justin most often bottomed for Brian for two reasons. One, Brian was an expert top and he knew best how to pleasure anyone, most especially Justin. Justin loved the way Brian handled him. Two, Brian made Justin feel safe, even as he dominated, regardless of what went on their bed. No matter the scene or mood, Brian took care of Justin as if he mattered. Because he did. Brian loved him and it showed in the way he held his lover, drove him to the point of insanity, but carefully kept him from the edge. Brian never lost control, and that was an extremely rare gift in any top, let alone one as prolific as Brian.

 

When Brian chose to bottom, Justin had noticed that it was usually when things were emotionally strained in his life. Not necessarily with Justin, but in general, and Justin had tuned into the fact that Brian needed to surrender that control to let go of the turmoil. Justin didn’t top quite the same way as Brian. There were more soothing touches, more eye contact, and an easy, unhurried pace that silently said, “I’m here. You’re safe. Let go and I will catch you. It is okay to want this.” Both ways were satisfying and served their purpose. But this? Brian topping from the bottom? This was a whole different game. Brian dominated, even as he fucked himself on Justin’s cock. Both men got the best of both scenarios. 

 

Which was, thankfully, where they had ended up again now. 

 

Justin kept his eyes locked on Brian’s while employing his now-freed hands to roam over his lover’s chest and abs, finally settling on his delectable dick. Brian’s head tipped back, exposing his throat. Probably the sexiest thing Justin had seen or would ever see.

 

Brian rose, then impaled himself again, Justin’s hips surging up to meet him this time and Brian’s head tipping forward as he leaned over Justin, his bangs partially hiding his eyes as they thrust together again. Eyes half-lidded, Brian leaned in for a prolonged kiss, tongues sliding together as their lower bodies did the same until the tempo became too frantic to keep the position. Brian sat upright again and drove at a hard, frenetic pace until the sweat dripped and their breathing became a series of great gasps for air followed by sweet sighs of pleasure. Damp skin met damp skin in staccato slaps of erotic torture. Brian watched his lover reach the precipice and hurtle over on a laughing groan of repletion, right before Justin gave a final twisting pull on Brian’s cock that had him shooting his load so hard, a large dollop of jizz caught the edge of Justin’s ear and slid down to dangle from the lobe, where it hovered for a full ten seconds before dripping onto the bedding.

  
  


The next morning Brian woke very sore, stiff (his back, unfortunately, not his more fun parts), and exceedingly cranky. Knowing Justin wouldn’t stand for negative feedback, he pretended to still be sleeping and moaned in pain loudly, while shifting slightly. Justin shot out of bed like a bullet and trotted off to the kitchen. Brian chuckled (and winced) all the way to the bathroom for his morning piss.

 

They got back to the bedroom at about the same time. Brian was  careful to plaster a beleaguered but brave expression on his face so the blond would take pity on him. Arms full, Justin gestured Brian back to the bed and Brian complied, lying crosswise on the mattress, face pressed into the sheets.

 

Justin was no fool. He knew Brian was completely hamming it up and taking advantage of the situation, but he let him because that’s what Brian did. He would happily take this opportunity to show his love by taking care of his man. So, Justin ignored the protestations and simply began placing the tea bags - still chilly from the refrigerator - on Brian’s back, one at a time, allowing Brian to get used to the initial chill before plopping down another one. He kept this up, hitting him with the cold little parcels of tea leaves again and again, until all one hundred little bags littered his lover’s back. Then he grabbed one of the frozen towels and stood by the side of the bed, saying Brian’s name to get his attention. When the brunet looked up, Justin swung his naked hips and smacked Brian squarely in the face with his nutsac, laughing like a loon.

 

“What the fuck!” Brian hollered.

 

Justin, laughing so hard he was gasping for air, squeaked, “You’ve . . . been tea bagged . . . twice!” He couldn’t control it! He laughed until he snorted, choking on his own spit as he inhaled and eventually dropping to his knees while he continued to laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe. It took a few moments before Brian’s ire turned into amusement, but eventually he too broke into a smile at the situation.

 

“All right Sunshine, you’ve had your fun. Get on with it.” Brian suggested and laid his head back down.

 

Justin, still chortling, stood over Brian, shook out the frozen towel, and let it fall straight onto Brian’s back, making the big man scream like a girl and leap up, grasping for any part of the blond he could catch. Justin had been ready and took off at a run through the suite. Brian followed, hot on his tail, giving evidence that his back must be feeling at least a little better by that point. 

 

Justin made it to the couch before Brian could catch him, though, and the two took up positions across from each other with the bulky piece of furniture between them. Justin, the little brat, was still laughing his head off. Brian dodged around to the right, and the boy did the same, always keeping the couch between them. Brian tried to feint left before doubling back to the right, but the boy was too smart to fall for it. They kept circling the couch for several minutes, both of them now cackling with laughter. 

 

“You can’t keep away from me forever, little boy!” Brian teased. “And when I finally do catch you, you know your ass is mine.”

 

“I think you have that the wrong way around, my little Bottom Boy,” Justin shot back, grabbing the tub of ‘Boy Butter’ off the end table where it just happened to be waiting for them after the prior evening’s entertainments. “You looking for this, Big Boy?” Justin held up the tub tauntingly. “I know you want it, Brian. Otherwise you wouldn’t be chasing after me like this. Admit it - you’re just a big old nelly bottom boy. You love getting buttered up and riding me, don’t you? Come on, admit it!”

 

“Fuck. You!” Brian roared and leapt over the arm of the couch, taking two running steps across the cushions and then launching himself from the arm so that he landed, catlike, on his feet right in front of his little blond heckler. “Gotcha, Sunshine,” he grinned at the surprised young man who was now fully contained within the warmth of Brian’s long arms. 

 

Justin put up a token struggle but easily gave over when his playful partner put an end to the fight by claiming his boy’s lips in a deep, insistent kiss that took all the tussle out of the younger man.

 

Well, ALMOST all the tussle. While Brian was occupied with the kiss, the mischievous boy took advantage of the fact that he was still holding the tub of lube. Justin took the opportunity to remove the lid from the tub, scooped out a large blob of the slippery substance and then, while seeming to reach around his lover to return the embrace, he laughingly shoved the big glob of Boy Butter into Brian’s crack.

 

“Twat!” Brian complained vocally as the goopy substance oozed down his crack. 

 

“Well, you caught me, so I just figured I’d give you what you’ve been chasing me for,” the little blond imp joked, looking up at his taller lover with a mock-innocence that fooled nobody, but which did melt the older man’s heart as surely as that butter was melting down his ass.

 

How the fuck did he manage to get so lucky? Brian wondered as he stared into the deep blue pools of Justin’s happy, twinkling eyes. Sometimes he simply couldn’t believe that this beautiful, fun, caring man was his. How could Justin make even a painful sunburn turn into a sexy, fun romp? Brian knew he didn’t deserve him, but there was no way he would ever give Justin up now that he had him.

 

“You can slip your weiner between my hot buttered buns anytime, Sunshine,” Brian whispered into the sweet, shell-like ear.  

 

“Aw! You sweet talking little bottom boy, you!” Justin giggled and then grabbed his partner’s hand and led the way, skipping back to the bedroom with Brian happily trotting along behind.

 

_ “Santa got a sunburn, Santa got a sunburn, That’s why he’s all red . . .” _ Justin started singing again, as he carefully settled Brian down on his stomach in the center of the bed and climbed up to kneel behind his willing partner with a happy holiday grin on his face. 

 

Maybe this vacation wasn’t going to be a total ruin after all, Brian smiled to himself. In fact, if he played his cards right, he could milk this sunburn thing into a whole week of getting his buns ministered to. He’d gladly put up with Justin’s teasing as long as it meant he had a ready-made excuse for why he couldn’t possibly top. And, if his ass ended up sorer than his back by the end of the week, well, that’s what the Boy Butter was for, right?

 

[ Santa Got A Sunburn by Barefoot Man ](https://youtu.be/g6-oAqcmMMA) \- Music to read your fic by!

 

**Author's Note:**

> 12/30/16 - Thank you to all my Santa’s Helpers who made this fic so fun to write! Saje, samcedee, eureka1 and Cookiebun. Also, credit to samcdee for the beautiful banner. You guys totally rock!


End file.
